My dog Retch

    Once upon a time lived a girl I call my "sister".  She was a young gal, and on her birthday, My brilliant parental authority figures decided to get her a dog. The dog they chose was a mixed breed a Black Labrador and a Rottweiller.  The theory was that they wanted a dog that would be protective (the Rottweiller) and love children (the Lab)  My sister named it "Sissy", since deep down I think she wanted a sister.  However, what they got was not a dog that loved children, but a dog that loved to maul children.  Since it was evident that a child couldn't control it, they promptly gave it to me to raise.

    So I adopted "Sissy" to raise.  I promptly figured out that this dog was no "sissy" since it apparently enjoyed mauling everything I owned. I decided the name Gretchen the Retch was more appropriate. Retch was to be her nickname.  After all, she was a wretched and foul beast that took pleasure in destroying everything I valued.

    Even after being "fixed" she was still rambunctious to say the least.  I heard that after a pup is fixed it calms down, however this was not the case with the retched one.  She rejoiced in both attacking me and my friends, as well as all personal property within the confines of her kingdom.  Since she used to sleep with me, I took joy in biting her as she slept, and when she woke up, I would pretend to be asleep.  I also liked taking her out in the woods, and as she wandered off, I would feign sleeping, then when she wasn't looking I would haul ass, and hide.  She liked tracking me down and attacking me for "abandoning" her.  Nevertheless, I enjoyed her immensely and after awhile, she would only respond to commands I gave her, like "Retch...don't eat that child...you don't know where its been."

    Then one day my whole world changed. I was away from home for two weeks, and the night before I was to come home, I called those people that called themselves my parents and asked how "Retch" was but to my disappointment, I learned they grew too frustrated to handle a dog such as Retch and gave her to the dog pound.  Needless to say I was crushed, especially after learning they gave her to the pound the day after I left.

    So kids, the moral of this story is, don't trust those people you call your parents.  I know that I learned that "Retch" wasn't the real wretched one, it was my parents.